Explanations
by starts-with-M
Summary: "Iggy?" "Hmm?" "What's blind?" Some fluffy brother-sister thing with Iggy and Angel, plus a terrible title. NOW EDITED. AKA 'Salt'.


**A/N: WARNING: FLUFF AHEAD **

**Some random fluffy thing I wrote and am now posting. I don't even know…it's not pretty. Kinda a practice piece as I work on some bigger WIPs. Please review. Please please please please please. Reviews are the second-best type of communication ever. **

**EDIT: Now cleaned up and presentable, thanks to two incredible reviewers. You know who you are; virtual cookies for you guys. This time round I made Angel more of an empath than a telepath, because I figured she'd had less time to practice. In my mind, undeveloped telepathy would be less hearing actual thoughts and more hearing the tone of the thoughts. Impressions, really. Kinda like when she was trying to read the fish-kids' thoughts in TAE. Also, I added more descriptions of what's happening and tried to fix that ping-pong bit at the end. So. Much better now.**

**Oh, and I was told that I was too needy asking for reviews. Oops. Sorry if it came off that way; I was having a bad day and just wanted some feedback. Reviews make me happy. As does cosplaying. Which I'm doing tonight for the premier of the Maze Runner here in the States. Super psyched. Anywho, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Maximum Ride, Eggy would not exist and Fax would rule the world. Unfortunately, this is not the case.**

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><p>"Iggy?"<p>

"Hmm?"

Angel sat at the kitchen table, surrounded by crayons and paper. Her drawing had been abandoned in the pursuit of trying to strip the crayons of their papers. Iggy was in the kitchen, back to Angel as he rummaged through the pantry.

Angel, studying the wax shavings clinging to the papers, asked with all the characteristic bluntness of a four-year-old: "What's blind?"

Iggy froze. Swallowed. Closed his eyes. "Why?"

"Well, cause you were just thinking that it would be easier to find ingredients if you weren't blind, and then sometimes Max thinks you don't act like you are, and once I asked her and she got really sad and couldn't answer and to me to stay put and went out the window, so then I asked Fang and he didn't really say anything but he followed Max, and now you're really sad and don't want to answer."

Angel stared at her older 'brother' with wide eyes, holding her crayon loosely. Iggy pulled himself out of the cupboard and straightened up, turning to face her.

"It means that my eyes don't work."

Angel looked at his eyes. They seemed fine. Pale blue, kinda misty, and unfocused, but they always looked that way. "Huh?"

Iggy sighed. "I can't see, Angel. Okay?" His voice was tight, and Angel could feel the emotions rolling off of him. Sadness and anger and a bunch of other feelings she didn't know. It made Angel's head spin, and her eyes began to prickle with tears. She sniffed quietly, but Iggy still heard. His face fell and he shook his head.

"No, Angel, please-"

Angel whimpered, a tear tracing her cheek. Iggy crossed the room in a few strides and picked her up, cradling her as he made his way to the couch. Angel curled up in his arms and buried her face in his shirt.

"Please don't be mad," came a muffled whisper. Iggy sighed.

"I'm not mad at you."

"Then why were you mad?"

"I just…didn't want to have to tell you."

"Why not?" Angel peeked up at him, half her face still pressed into his shoulder. His thoughts answered her question. "Oh."

They were both silent for a long while.

"Is it scary?" Angel's tears had dried on her cheeks, and Iggy's fingers had begun to sweep through her hair rhythmically.

"Sometimes," he admitted.

"Because you can't see," she probed, looking at him inquisitively.

"Kinda."

Angel frowned at him, picking up on the unsaid reason. "You can always help, even if you can't see."

Iggy sighed. "Not always."

"Yes always," she replied determinedly, sounding like she would fight anyone who argued otherwise. They were quiet again for a minute, Angel monitoring Iggy's thoughts the best she could to make sure he didn't keep disagreeing. Then something occurred to her, and she whined,"Iggy…"

"Angel…" he mimicked her tone.

"You never finished the cake," Angel informed him.

"No, I guess I didn't."

"Can I help?"

"Sure." Angel wiggled out of Iggy's arms, and took his hand when he stood up.

"Don't worry," she told him. "You're still Iggy, even if you can't see." And with that fear addressed, Angel lead him into the kitchen.


End file.
